


Electric Boogaloo

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Guys you're on an open channel be careful of what you say, Hunk how could you say that, Hurt Lance (Voltron), It's not angst it's actually kinda funny, Keith/Shiro (background), Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Mature rating for injuries and potty mouth, Post-S6, Watch That Comm Unit Dammit Lance, background Sheith - Freeform, don't fucking drop the comm unit, he just gets hurt, lance pov, voltron games, you spent time and effort on that comm unit don't lose it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 15:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15003974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Okay, so it's because of this: likehellthey're going to be sleeping in their lions floating through space, no thanks, so they land on planets on their way to Earth. Sometimes it goes better than others. This is one of the times where it's not the time where it's better than other times. It's actually a pretty bad time. For Lance especially.





	Electric Boogaloo

“Are you sure about this place?”

 

That was the fifth or sixth time Pidge asked the question, and honestly, Lance was getting kind of sick of it. Lance? Getting sick of repetitive questions? That’s a recipe to getting tired of his own company right quick. 

 

“Yes,” Shiro, Keith, and Allura said, in tired unison. 

 

“It’s just… so…” she continued, at which Lance let out an annoyed sigh. 

 

“Bright orange,” Lance finished for her, his voice flat. “We’ve noticed.” 

 

“I think orange is a nice color,” Hunk muttered over the comms. 

 

“We’ve been to orange planets before, Pidge,” Shiro said, his voice staticky due to him and Keith losing their helmets and having to use Black’s microphone. “Besides, that’s only the cloud cover. When we get under it, it’ll be less orange.”

 

Pidge hemmed and hawed to herself for a minute longer. Lance switched on his video communicator and watched her face. God, what he wouldn’t do for a bag of popcorn. Pidge could be unintentionally hilarious sometimes. Less so when she was intentionally funny. 

 

“Fine,” she finally grumbled. Lance let out a victory  _ whoop _ and was cut off by Pidge saying, “But I’m not going to be happy about it! I have a bad feeling about this.”

* * *

 

 

By  _ God _ those lions had no legroom. Lance stretched more coming out of Red than he ever had in his entire life. She was tiny—the smallest of all the lions, even Green, and Lance deeply and truly missed Blue’s wide cockpit. 

 

With a yawn and a soft  _ graaah,  _ Lance swung his arms above his head, as high as they could go; his muscles trembled and his jaw ached and he felt  _ awesome.  _

 

“Nice place,” he said while shaking out his legs. “Breathable air. Plenty of wood for a fire. Bag of popcorn on the ground, interesting. Oh, pretty flowers. Friendly wildlife. We will eat  _ tonight.” _

 

“Wait,” Hunk said, “bag of popcorn?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Lance said, going to the spot where he first noticed the thing. He crouched low and sniffed the bag.  _ Heavenly.  _ “Still warm. Looks like it was freshly popped. Smells  _ great,  _ you guys, you would not  _ believe.  _ Ten out of ten bag of popcorn.”

 

“Don’t touch it,” Keith snapped. He and Shiro were still in Black, probably making out, blegh. “It could be a trap. This is an alien planet. They don’t just have bags of popcorn laying around.”

 

“I mean, it’s Act II butter lover flavor and everything,” Lance said, peering at the faded gray pattern. “Looks exactly like I remember.”

 

“Wait for the others to converge on your location. We’ll check it out together.”

 

Lance looked up at the orange sky. Sure, he could wait. The popcorn would get cold but that’s  _ fine,  _ that’s fine. That is fine. 

 

God, this place was so weird. Orange sky, totally unafraid wildlife—like, look at that, a little… rabbit thing, maybe, just scampered across to where Lance was sitting, sniffed him, and scampered back to wherever it came from.  _ Completely  _ unafraid. 

 

Probably no natural predators around here, or it was used to humans. Either way sounded great. No natural predators meant that they wouldn’t have to worry about being eaten alive by wolves or whatever. Speaking of—Lance did  _ not  _ trust that teleporting wolf thing Keith had brought with him. Nope. No way. 

 

He took another sniff of the popcorn. God, it was  _ so  _ tantalizing. The scent hit the roof of his mouth and practically made him swoon. And it didn’t seem to be getting too cold,  _ yeah baby, _ and Lance just wanted to eat his freaking Earth popcorn. 

 

The bushes rustled, and Hunk emerged, two songbirds on his right shoulder. He didn’t seem to have noticed them. 

 

“Woah,” Hunk said, “that really is popcorn. Here, let me have a sniff.”

 

“No way, this popcorn is mine,” Lance said, indignant. He wrapped his arms around it, careful to not actually touch the thing. “Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

 

“No fair,” Hunk whined. “Come on, be a team player. What would Shiro say?”

 

“He would say finders keepers losers weepers.”

 

“I would not,” Shiro grumbled over the comms. 

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Lance said, throwing a hand up in the air for emphasis. “I’m going in. Hunk’s here, he can have some I  _ guess _ if he really wants, but I want me some  _ popcorn.” _

 

He seized the flaps of the bag and  _ ripped— _ and the ground opened up underneath him, and he fell, and he fell, and he fell. 

 

And he hit the bottom. 

 

_ “Lance!”  _ Hunk screamed. Distantly, Lance could hear him at the top; he wondered why he wasn’t coming over the comms, until he lifted his head and felt the pieces of his helmet fall away in two or three large chunks. 

 

_ God.  _

 

“I’m okay!” Lance shouted back, trying to get himself into a sitting position. He leaned on his left wrist, which shot a flare of pain up his wrist—he slipped and hit his head against the floor again. “My helmet is broken, though!”

 

“You can fix your comms, I’ll show you how,” Hunk shouted. “Can you see?”

 

Lance sniffed, looking around this place for the first time. The hole he had fallen into was so far away; a hole of orange sky with a little black dot that could have been Hunk. It seemed Lance had fallen into a warren of tunnels; he was in a cavern with a high ceiling, and yes, he could see. Quartz crystals embedded in the dirt walls made sure of that. 

 

“Yeah,” Lance shouted, his voice already starting to crack. “Glowing crystals down here. Very pretty.”

 

“See if you can find the microphone, red wire, yellow wire, and transmitter,” Hunk shouted. “It’s a small black box with a sensor on the side, a vent next to that, and a knob on the back. It’s about the size of your pinkie.”

 

Lance gathered together the broken pieces of his helmet. His left wrist absolutely refused to help, sending a dull ache that resonated in his spine; he held the pieces of his helmet with his thighs and picked apart the helmet with his free hand. 

 

The microphone was easy to find; it was right next to his mouth, on the right side. The red wire was behind the microphone. Lance, very, very carefully, pulled it out. 

 

“I don’t see the yellow wire, or the transmitter,” Lance shouted up to Hunk. “The break was clean, none of the wiring was exposed.”

 

There was a brief moment, then Hunk, his voice a tad more aggressive than normal, shouted, “Tear the bitch apart!”

 

_ “What?” _

 

“Just rip it apart, Lance! Literally tear the helmet apart!”

 

Hunk wasn’t built to say curse words. Like, of course Lance knew he  _ used  _ them, but it was always a surprise. So Lance hesitated before ripping his helmet open. That probably saved his life. Good chance of it. Always hesitate, that’s a lesson to learn here. 

 

The cavern ground rumbled under him. Lance’s hands stilled on the helmet. From above, a piece of dirt fell onto his lap. 

 

Something  _ roared.  _

 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Lance chanted under his breath. “Shit, shit,  _ shit!” _ He grabbed the pieces of his ruined helmet and clambered to his feet. 

 

The something growled again. It was coming from one of the tunnels that bordered the cavern. Lance couldn’t tell which one. 

 

“Lance!” Hunk shouted. “Are you okay?”

 

Lance didn’t reply. No  _ way  _ was he going to make a sound right now. 

 

_ “Lance!” _

 

Oh, fine. “Just tell me what to do!” he shouted. The something roared.  _ “Quickly!” _

 

“Do you have the wire and the transmitter yet?”

 

Lance whimpered, looking at the pieces of his helmet. Oh, his wrist was going to kill him later. 

 

He took the piece that was most likely to have the transmitter—the piece where he had gotten the red wire and the microphone from. Oh, God. Sweet baby Jesus. This was going to hurt a  _ lot.  _

 

As he braced himself, one hand on each side of the helmet, the something stepped into the cavern. 

 

Lance let his hands fall slack. 

 

Oh, God, sweet baby Jesus, all the lovely angels on high, seraphim and saints; they were not going to be enough. Lance was going to have to rely on  _ himself.  _

 

The beast was as tall as a house, its legs rising as high as Allura did when she got mad and wanted to make a point to Shiro—well, clone Shiro, as it turned out—and it was covered in thick, matted fur that sprouted off in all directions. Almost like a mop dog. You know those mop dogs? Except this one was tall and had horns and yellow eyes that glowed through its fur. And breath that  _ stunk. _ Jesus. 

 

Lance was, appropriately, terrified. 

 

He took a deep breath and held it and  _ ripped _ his helmet apart like he had that bag of popcorn (what even was that bag of popcorn? No way was it an actual bag of popcorn. Lance had no idea what to think of it) up above. He let out an involuntary scream at the feeling his wrist made him feel, but the yellow wire, and a little box that must have been the transmitter, fell out onto the ground. 

 

He fell to his knees and clutched his wrist. Something,  _ something _ has got to give; it  _ hurt. _ A lot. There was too much. Too much was going on. Couldn't he catch a break? For like five minutes? To bite back the pain and fix his comms and not worry about this monster? 

 

Gradually, he could hear Hunk screaming his name from up where he was on the surface of this awful alien planet. Lance scrambled to his feet and scooped up the items he’d dropped. And, hey, the broken helmet was a nice, sharp triangle. Perfect for cutting. He scooped it up. 

 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he shouted up to Hunk. The beast swiped at him with a massive paw, and Lance lurched backwards out of reach. 

 

“What happened?”

 

“Just tell me how to make the comms work!” Lance yelled back. “Quickly! Please!” The beast made another swing at his head, and though he hated it, he ducked into a roll and landed somewhere on the left side of the beast. 

 

“Wind the red and yellow wires around each other!” Hunk shouted. “Make sure both ends have about a couple centimeters free and wrap those around each other. The ends should line up.”

 

Lance fumbled with the wires as best as he could with his bum wrist. The sharp triangle of his helmet was tucked under his arm, as were the transmitter and the tiny microphone. He came to the realization that his wrist was swelling up when the beast pounced and roared at him, making him dodge yet again. Did his wrist always look like that? Hell. 

 

“Got it!” Lance yelled up to Hunk in triumph, holding his wrapped wires. “Now what?”

 

“Now pop open the transmitter box and place the wires in their port,” Hunk shouted. “Same with the microphone.”

 

You could  _ open _ the transmitter? What kind of fancy technology was that? Lance ducked out of the way of the beast as almost a second thought (although the beast was  _ pretty _ distracting, it being out to kill Lance and all) and searched for the way to open the box, because you can  _ do  _ that, apparently. 

 

He pressed on the exact right place, where it popped open; he let out a hissed  _ “Aw yes”  _ before connecting one end of the wires to a hole in the box. It sparked and hissed at him, but Lance closed the box before it could do anything else questionable. 

 

The microphone was harder. It already had an exposed wire trailing out of it, and no other obvious holes; Lance stumbled backwards to dodge the beast’s snapping jaws. His foot hit a rock, and his knees gave out—he landed hard on his butt,  _ ow, _ and slammed his left hand onto the ground for stabilization. 

 

Mistake.

 

Lance had been avoiding using that hand since he’d fallen. It hurt so bad, you don’t even know; Lance had always been a sucker for pain, had always easily succumbed to it. The fire in his wrist was  _ so bad. _ Lance didn’t have the words to describe it. 

 

He pushed the pain to the side and considered the chingered up pieces of the comm unit he had. Maybe if he… God, this was stupid and probably not a good idea, but that wire that was in the microphone already was probably there for a reason. He twisted that exposed wire with the already twisted red and yellow wires—there was a spark, and then there was sound. 

 

_ “Hunk—tell him we’re almost there—” _

 

_ “I knew that was a trap ohhh my God I knew it! I knew it—” _

 

_ “Why are you yelling? Please stop yelling you’re going to kill me again—” _

 

_ “Is he okay? Ask him if he’s okay.” _

 

“I’m online,” Lance whispered into the comm, to immediate shouts of relief. 

 

_ “Lance! Thank God,”  _ Pidge said.  _ “Are you okay? Do you need us to come get you?” _

 

“Yes please,” Lance replied. He crawled backwards in response to the beast padding forward. It was taking its sweet, sweet time, approaching Lance like a  _ predator.  _ There were no other words to describe the malicious hunger in those eyes. 

 

“I’m going to have to run from this thing,” Lance breathed into the comm unit. “I can’t fight it in such close range.”

 

_ “What thing?”  _ Keith asked.  _ “Lance, what thing?” _

 

“Oh, nothing, small—huge, actually—beastie, no big, I can totally handle it,” Lance said. 

 

_ “Lance.” _

 

“Big monster. Wants to eat me.  _ Extremely  _ scary.”

 

_ “We’ll get you out of there,”  _ Hunk said.  _ “Keith? Any way that wolf of yours can jump down and get Lance out of there?” _

 

Lance groaned quietly as Keith thought it over. He did  _ not  _ like that wolf. Nuh-uh. Zero out of ten would not trust. 

 

As Keith and Hunk debated on the whole  _ wolf _ thing or whatever, Lance was busy fighting for his  _ life  _ down here—experimentally, he swung the sharp tip of his broken helmet piece at the beast. It hesitated, but kept moving forward. Lance scuttled backwards and kept the blade outstretched in front of him. 

 

“I can’t hold the thing back for much longer,” Lance said. “I’m going into the tunnels.  _ Find me,  _ Goddammit, I  _ really  _ don’t want to die down here!”

 

With that, he hooked the comm unit into the collar of his armor and scrambled to his feet. He hated to turn his back on the beast (he had  _ seen  _ that one episode of Doctor Who and now both blinking and statue gardens terrified him), but running backwards was dumb as shit, and he was not about to try that. 

 

He stumbled a couple times, but he would deny it, even if he blurted out a  _ “Shit!”  _ every time and everyone knew. Eventually, gradually, he lost the beast, ducked into an alcove in some branching tunnel, still softly lit by the glowing crystals. 

 

Huh. Those things were pretty weird. Kind of pretty, too. How did they produce light? There’s a difference between glowing in the dark and producing light. These things were like lightbulbs. Lance could see the lichen growing on the muddy brown walls and everything. 

 

He poked one. The ground under his feet gave way a couple inches, making Lance jolt and gasp in shock. 

 

_ Hmm.  _ He poked another crystal, causing the ground to indent again.  _ Interesting.  _ Pidge would have a field day down here. 

 

Feeling slightly braver, Lance stepped out of the hole he’d made and smacked his hand against another crystal a little farther down. (Lucky it wasn’t pointed, or he would have had many regrets.) The ground under his feet indented a few  _ feet  _ this time. Lance fell again, since he was slower than the floor, and the landing made his bones ache. 

 

It took work getting out of this hole, especially with the bum wrist, but he got there eventually, freezing when he heard the beast in the distance. Well. It was far enough away, and Lance had lost it for now. 

 

He stood to the side of the deep hole he’d made, still close enough to touch the same crystal—well, poke it, which he did. The ground under his feet indented, even though he’d moved.  _ Interesting.  _ Verrry interesting. He was getting good at this. 

 

The beast made a noise again. Sounded like it was getting closer. 

 

Lance kept moving. 

 

* * *

 

His stomach rumbled. He’d lost track of how long he’d been down here—hours, maybe. There wasn’t much to do besides walk and listen to the chatter on the radio. Right now, they were debating how to get down into the chasm Lance had split into the earth. 

 

_ “We could have used a rope, if  _ someone _ had packed a rope,”  _ Pidge said. 

 

_ “Sorry,”  _ Hunk muttered. 

 

_ “Pidge, doesn’t your bayard allow you to rappel down things?”  _ Keith asked. 

 

“I’m hungry,” Lance said into the comms. “Anyone got some pizza they want to throw into the pit?”

 

_ “Fascinating update,”  _ Pidge said dryly.  _ “How do you feel about getting electrocuted when I pull you up with my bayard? It’ll only hurt a little bit.” _

 

_ “Okay, fine, bad idea,”  _ Keith said.  _ “So sue me.” _

 

_ “You can always go down and help him out,”  _ Shiro pointed out. 

 

There was a short silence over the comms. Lance imagined Pidge giving Shiro one of her glares—she was about as intimidating as a baby rabbit—and smiled to himself. 

 

_ “Fine,”  _ Pidge said.  _ “Would help if we knew where he was. Since he decided to wander off and everything.” _

 

“Excuse me, I was about to be eaten by a mangy monster,” Lance said. “You’d run for your life too, if you were in my situation. Don’t be judging.”

 

_ “Don’t we have a teleporting wolf?”  _ Hunk said, thoughtfully. 

 

Lance pulled a face. “Don’t remind me.”

 

_ “Yorak is a good dog,”  _ Keith said.  _ “And he could probably sniff you out. Don’t you want to be rescued?” _

 

“Yes,” Lance grumped, “but not by a  _ wolf  _ named  _ Lorax.” _

 

_ “His name is Yorak!” _

 

“That’s a shit name.”

 

_ “You—if you weren’t needing to be rescued, Lance, I would smack you. You and Yorak are going to spend some quality bonding time. Let him get to know the Red Lion. Maybe you won’t forget this bonding moment this time.” _

 

“Are you  _ still— _ it’s been years, Keith! Years! You have a  _ boyfriend  _ now. Why are you still hung up on that?”

 

_ “I was hurt.” _

 

Lance sighed. God, this was going to embarrass him  _ so  _ much. “Listen, Keith… for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you for such a long time. You didn’t deserve any of that. I was so caught up on my failures at the Garrison, and I thought maybe taking it out on someone who was so much better at all of it than me would help, somehow. So… I’m sorry.”

 

In the silence over the comms, Lance finally heard the quiet sniffing of the beast. Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God. 

 

It was right behind him. 

 

_ “My dude, I think you broke him—“ _

 

“Not now, Pidge,” Lance whispered, his voice tight in his throat. “Alright. Send the Lorax. Do anything, I don’t care. Just get me  _ out of these caves!” _

 

_ “Lance? What’s—“ _

 

_ “Monster,”  _ Lance said through gritted teeth. 

 

The beast rounded the corner. Its horns came first, glistening a sickly yellow; then the matted fur of its flat face; then its head turned, ever so slowly, like it knew Lance was just  _ waiting  _ to see its eyes. 

 

What eyes they were. 

 

Lance scrambled to his feet and bolted into a run—but he forgot about the indents he had made from poking the glowing crystals, tripped, and fell flat on his face. 

 

As the beast stalked towards him, Lance struggled to get up.  _ Great.  _ Can he mention now how fucked he was? Not only did he have a bum wrist—he was pretty sure his nose was broken, if the blood streaming down his face was any indicator, and the dull ache in his ankle told him that it was probably twisted, if not sprained. 

 

Still. He would go on—he was stupid if he let tripping on that small ledge (well, it was closer to a foot,  _ definitely  _ a worthy thing to trip on) stop him now. 

 

“This is a  _ fucking nightmare,”  _ Lance spat out, uncaring of who heard. 

 

_ “Lance, stay where you are. Yorak is sniffing you out. He’ll teleport down to you and help you out. We’ll get Pidge to rappel down and find you. Just stay where you are, okay?” _

 

Lance cringed. Why did the beast  _ walk  _ everywhere? Why can’t it just  _ act? _ “I’ll do my best. But, you guys… you have no  _ idea  _ how much this thing scares me.”

 

_ “Stay strong, Lance,” _ Hunk said.  _ “You’ve faced so much already. Here is not the place to die.” _

 

Goddammit, he was  _ right.  _ Lance slowly pushed himself to his feet to stare down the beast. He will  _ not  _ die so close to the finish line. So close to his family. 

 

He sniffed hard, the blood dripping from his nose quivering. He can  _ do  _ this. He can fight. 

 

His grip on the sharp triangle he’d torn from his ruined helmet tightened, and instead of running away, like every inch of himself was begging to do, he charged. 

 

The beast’s eyes widened as it reared back, throwing its paws up. Lance slashed at the sensitive pads, drawing thick lines of blood on both paws; when the beast slammed its legs down again, it roared in pain and crumpled slightly.

 

Lance didn’t give it a second to breathe, using his good leg to jump up and slash at the beast’s head. All of the fur got in the way, so Lance couldn’t make a solid hit—but he managed to shear away some of the hanging fur and get a small cut on its front flank. 

 

But he landed wrong. Pure, unadulterated pain shot up his leg from his ankle—his knee buckled, and he had to catch himself before he crashed to the ground. 

 

No. He was  _ not  _ going to let this pain stop him. Once he got out of here, he could treat his injuries—but he ain’t out of the woods yet. 

 

There came a flash of blue light, and the wolf appeared, looking like a glitch on a video game, throwing sparks. Lance gave him a  _ look.  _

 

“You and me, wolf,” he said. “We got issues.”

 

He, being a wolf, did not reply. 

 

“The Lorax is here,” Lance said into the comms. 

 

_ “His name is Yorak.” _

 

“What’s that? I heard… Clorox this time.”

 

_ “Lance, if you call my dog a cleaning product again, I’m going to leave you down there.” _

 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Lance muttered. “Okay. Serious face. Serrrious time.” Call him stupid, but that worked to get his head back in the battle. 

 

Yorak leapt at the beast. He didn’t make a sound, which Lance found rather creepy; the beast, in comparison, howled a  _ lot.  _ Yorak showed no mercy in tearing fur from the thing’s body. The skin underneath was a withered, sickly yellow, quickly scored by Yorak’s claws. 

 

“Damn, Keith,” Lance said. “Your wolf is a beast.”

 

_ “Trained him myself.” _

 

“I don’t doubt that.” To be honest, this was sort of anticlimactic; Lance stayed back as Yorak went hog wild on the beast. No way was he going anywhere near those claws that could tear him to ribbons. 

 

Before long, the beast turned tail and fled into the tunnels, dripping a gruesome mixture of blood and fur. Lance cheered. The beast was gone! Huzzah, as the British would say. 

 

Yorak jumped along, his tongue lolling out of mouth. He sniffed at Lance’s waist, probably looking for treats. Lance patted his head and smoothed back his fur. 

 

“Good boy,” he said, a goofy grin on his face. 

 

_ “What was that I hear? Lance saying “good boy” to my dog?” _

 

“I’ve never been a big fan of dogs, or wolves, which this is, they’re not the same thing,” Lance said, still rubbing Yorak’s ears. “But this one is starting to grow on me.”

 

_ “Alright, Lance, head over to where you fell in,”  _ Pidge said.  _ “I’ll meet you there and bring you back up.” _

 

“How?”

 

_ “You’ll see.” _ Lance could just  _ hear  _ the smirk in her voice.  _ “It’s a surprise.” _

 

“Surprise, schmurschmise.”

 

_ “Sucks to suck.” _

 

Yorak led the way. Lance wouldn’t have been able to find the cavern on his own—running from the beast led him through branching tunnels, twists and turns that would put a roller coaster to shame. 

 

Pidge was waiting for him. God, it was so good to see her. She gave Yorak a pat behind the ears and winced when she saw Lance. “You look like hell.”

 

“I feel like hell. C’mere.” He crushed Pidge into a hug when he was close enough, which she returned. 

 

“You smell.”

 

“I see you’re still short.”

 

They broke apart with smiles on their faces. 

 

“Alright. Sit down on the net.” She gestured behind herself; Lance peered around her to, indeed, see black netting on the ground. “I’ll haul you up, and we’ll get you treated.”

 

Lance gave her a wavering smile. The rest of the day was sort of a blur—Lance watched the crystal-embedded walls of the cavern disappear into the orange sky, watched the world become lighter and fresher and friendlier. He didn’t realize how oppressive the cavern was until it had fallen away, him hanging from the rough rope net, watching the ground disappear into darkness. 

 

Everyone was there, even Red who had  _ definitely  _ not been parked there, and they all converged on him to hug him. It was nice, until it hurt, and he had to push them all off. 

 

“I think my wrist is broken,” he said, and laid down on the soft grass as they all poked at his injuries. 

 

Later, with Lance’s wrist and ankle in splints and his nose taped together, they walked to a clearing Shiro and Coran had chosen to bunker down for the night. 

 

Right in the middle was an enormous pizza box. 

 

Domino’s. Smelled like heaven. Had grease spots on the lid and everything. 

 

Six different people locked their arms against Lance’s chest and said  _ “Don’t you fucking touch it!” _

  
  


 

 

 

 

END

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I wrote this in one go and have not actually read it over yet, so if you catch any mistakes please let me know!
> 
> This was written for the [Voltron Games](https://thevoltrongames.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr, again, haha. Go Green Lion Green Lion For The Win  
> Prompt: have the paladins explore an alien planet!  
> My goblin brain: make it a horror story  
> Me: ¿¿¿??¿¿¿¿¿¿?? Why ????¿¿¿?????¿¿¿¿¿  
> My hands: yeah let's do that!
> 
> Come talk to me at [@spinstersgrave!](https://spinstersgrave.tumblr.com/) Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! It's late and I'm suuuper tired


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